Battle wounds and Silver kisses
by Wife of Legolas
Summary: After the battle of Orcs and Men, an unsuspecting creature is caught in its mist. A fae by hailing from the Woodland realm, is severally injured. Her only hope is that of the knowledge and affection of a well known warrior Elf. Finally FINISHED!
1. and some souls are worth more than other...

Battle wounds and Silver kisses

After the battle of Orcs and Men, an unsuspecting creature is caught in its mist. A fae by the name of Baidyanith, hailing from the Woodland realm, is severally injured. Her only hope is that of the knowledge and affection of a well known warrior Elf.  A "Lost" chapter of LotRs: Two Towers

            (Taken from LotRs: Two Towers- Chapter: THE RIDERS OF ROHAN; page 39 )

            They now drew lots for the watches and the lot for the first watch fell to Gimli.  The others lay down.  Almost at once sleep laid hold on them.  "Gimli!" said Aragorn drowsily.  "Remember, it is perilous to cut bough or twig from a living tree in Fangorn.  But do not stray far in search of dead wood.  Let the fire die rather! Call me at need!"

            With that he fell asleep. Legolas already lay motionless, his fair hands folded upon his breast, his eyes unclosed, blending living night and deep dream, as is the way with Elves.  Gimli sat hunched by the fire, running his thumb thoughtfully along the edge of his axe.  The tree rustled.  There was no other sound.

            *Suddenly Gimli looked up.  A figure clad in shadow stumbled near.  Soft groans trickled over lips as a slender body fell to be seen.  She was a women a further view, a girl by sound.  Legolas' ears perked at the new noise and rose to his feet at an instant.  His autumn eyes blinking in awareness as his Dwarven companion stalked ever near to the crumpled form just beyond the fire's light.

            "Help me… Master Dwarf… for I am wounded and lost amongst the wood…" the victim whispered as her buttermilk hand fell upon her breast nearing the cause of her sorrows.  A Mordorien arrow stood solemnly, feathers moist with blood in desperate attempts of removal.

"What is this? What has happened?" Aragorn implied his sword at hand.

"Never you mind what happened… but what is this maid?" grumbled Gimli as he glared at her frail form.

"A beast of Saruman, if you wish to know what I think." he continued.

"then why is she pierced with an arrow?" asked Legolas kneeling next to the woman.  His keen eye caught the fragile vein pulsating ever so lightly beneath pale skin.  The slight tear beseeching the crest of heavy lashes.

"A ploy!" jolted Gimli.  

"Sent by Saruman to trap the un-expecting. I would not near her so soon.  For have you have you seen a winged Elf, if that is what you wish it to be deemed, in all your long years?"

The Once silent Aragorn stepped forth and knelt beside Legolas.  

"For once Gimli speaks of much reason, for even not I have seen such a spectacle on my many a journey.  Mayhaps we should leave and think not twice of it- or mayhaps tend to her wound for time grows short and this creature dim."

Aragorn placed his gloved hand on the shoulder of his Elven friend.

"Tis' your choice, and yours alone… but come what need I will assist you."

"Tis' a beast!" Gimli announced, his axe raised above his stout head.

"And I will not fall victim to it's spell, for lingering too long will damn us all!"

"No beast is this friend Gimli, lower your axe.."  Legolas lifted the scantily dressed woman into his arms.  Her pale garment stained with that of earth and blood.  Her richly dark hair trestled and knotted where braids once lay.  She whimpered softly as her savior cradled her against his person.

"She is of the Fae- race, held dearer than even the Elves.  She as magical and mysterious as the wizards themselves.  The Elves have long kept such wonderful beings held fast in secret for they are scarce."    The Elf whispered holding the Fae protectively.

"Then we must haste the matter, for her hour stalks near and her skin grows placid.  I fear she may not live through this night to the next."  Aragorn replied as they pushed towards the flame.

Legolas sat silent gazing over the being before him.  Her features were paling rapidly.  Her eyes fluttering like the butterflies of Mirkwood on a summer's night.  Her lips hinted of ruby berry but were now victim to the poison of an Orc. The arrow protruding from her breast; swaying to and fro set as reminder of a job half done.  

Her eyes parted briefly revealing her tree-born eyes.

"Mm..Ma.." she begun only to be caught short.

"Nae. Speak not, for you have not the strength.  You have been pierced and hence removal shall be quite painful.. But necessary none the less.  Death will come with swift wings if not removed at once."

A lone tear fell over her pale flesh and descended on to the wood floor beneath.  Fear danced and shimmered in her hazel eyes.

"Cry not, cry not… for I shall be swift in hopes to brief your pain." Legolas traced his finger along the damp trail forgotten by her tear.

"Nall u-"  He repeated as he gripped the ridged feathers of the Mordorien arrow tight within his fist.  Faster than sight the arrow plunged forth removing shard of bone from her breast with it.  The female screamed elapsing what strength she beheld, and the wood shuddered in exchange.  For not the night fell silent and worry hung heavy making short the supply of air.

Moments of peace passed without word from Legolas' companions before Aragorn approached.

"Is she well?" Aragorn asked looking down upon Elf and Fae.

"She is resting.  Pain lay to close and too large for such one as fragile is she.  Alas I fear that poison from the weapon has taken effect.  See how her wings wilt?"   Legolas whispered as if afraid his very breath would shatter her frame.  

His very words were that of truth.  Her once silk stung wings now lay in decay.  Shards blowing in the wind leaving only blooded remanents in place.

"Is she dying, friend Legolas?"  Aragorn knelt feeling sorrow for the one not yet lost.

"Nae, dying- but falling back through her family tree… de-evolving… Fae folk are Elves evolved.  She will descend to elf, then to man.. or so states the elders who know more of their kind than I."

Aragorn dropped his head in soft prayer as Elvish spilled from his lips. After only seconds he regained his posture and turned to his comrade.

"I am sorry Legolas, I know death pains your keith folk.  For many at time I have seen Arwen shed many a tear over the loss of Man and Elf alike.

Legolas nodded, his head hung low over the small mouth of the women. A slight smile plagued his lips as he rose.

"Maybe her story will not end this night.  Hope against hope the arrow was removed before it's full effect took toll." He breathed looking upon the hunter.  Legolas' eyes gleamed with all the fires beauty and the hope of a thousand lives.

His hand swiftly grappled the leaf of Lorien about his neck  sending his homeland cloak to the floor of the wood.  His Earthen style clothes apparent fitting snuggly onto his fair skin.  He then bound the cloak to the Fae and brought her near. 

"I will not let you die... to that I swear. "

The girl moaned and shifted against him, her eyes opening slowly.  Baidyanith smiled weakly for she was in the arms of an angel.  Her sight was blurred but all his brightness could show through the darkest of shadows.  His moonlit hair waved in the gentle wind that chilled her ever so slightly, his pale skin illuminated by the fire.  He was beautiful in her eyes.. this nameless Elf.  She smiled once more and sunk into his warm embrace.  She would thank him once she awoke.  For the hour was late and she exhausted.  It would take many dreams to assist her healing, and dreams she prayed would be ignited by such a beauty as the Elf that cradled her so.


	2. when a dream becomes reality

            Baidyanith's dreams forced her to live once more through the hardships of latter eves events.  Through the hardship of a battle of reckless hatred.  Through the hostility of helplessness.  She cringed in her sleep.  Images of broken hope and forever lost seeped into her mind.

The wound would have never come about if Baidyanith would have stayed behind.  But the rumor of a fellowship from afar had tainted her senses and the word of an Elf, adored from just as away took her in whole.

With servant beside, Baidyanith moved amongst the forlorn forest of Fangorn.  Stories of old wept from the trees, and the sound of metal lingered in the background.

"He must be about, for stories tell that if a battle persists, the fair Legolas will be abroad."  Baidyanith said smiling.  Her cream fairing gown fought with the wind as she reared her winged steed ever nearer.

"Why is it that this Elf is so important to you Mistress?  He is beneath you and your Ada will not agree…."  Her male servant implied keeping astride easily.

"He does not agree with many things I have done, and would not agree with many things he has yet to learn of."  Baidyanith stated smirking.  Since childhood has she heard of the Great Prince of Mirkwood.   He was tall, valiant, beautiful, and rebellious.  Such a combination worthy of a king.  A crush from a distance that earned her much ridicule from her peers, for longing for an Elf:  The underbelly of the Fae realm.  She pushed forward still, in hopes of a meeting.

"In any matter, Valic, son of Marain, how dare you question the actions I partake in.  You are nothing more than a friend and a boy jealous of a man."

She sneered slowing her pace at the sign of the forest fell.  Valic groaned pulling near.  Slowly the pair stopped, eyes roaming the outskirts of Fangorn.  The stench of decay hung low over the once fragrant outdoor.

"What has happened…?"  Baidyanith gasped.  The hand upon her stomach rose quickly to her throat as bile eased upward.

"Your battle."  Valic remarked.  Anger barely controlled.  Brow furrowed. "..Mistress." 

"The scent of death is heavy- I fear we are too late for the forest.  Mayhaps not for those who played rolls on to it."  With those words Baidyanith took to speed and fell as quickly.

The sound of arrows came from the four corners of the forest as she rolled on to her side.  The world fell silent, but watchful eyes gazed forth.  Servants dropped like heavy platelets of rain, blood covered and arrow filled in arms reach.  Orci and Troll stalked into the foreground destroying the Earth beneath. Nothing was safe or left untouched by their hate.  Baidyanith blinked blankly.  She did not understand why beasts such as these would destroy something as innocent as the wood.

"Take not boys- No Elf will pass without meeting this fate!  Take as you will and leave nothing with out thought.  A message will be left for the man flesh behind."  The Orc growled loudly releasing a sense of victory into the dusted night's air.

Baidyanith tensed.  She knew not what to be feared more, dying by the arrow that pierced her breast… or by the maggot drenched hand of the slayers.

"Her hair… would makes a nice coat for the winter, for the shadow fills the body with chill."  Snubbed a troll as he grappled her head by the hair.  "She has fallen- no need for it now."  He breathed his breath as vile as rot left for days.  Grime oozed from his features.

"Yes." He grinned.

"A coat."  With his bile filled words, a dagger unsheathed, he swiped it through trestled autumn destroying that which was beautiful and leaving it layered about her chin.

The left lingering energy burst from her as she leapt from her feet.  The sound of horse hooves leaked into the open night as Orci and Troll alike fell.  He who possessed her hair swayed his arms about her as arrows filtered his spine.

Men atop of horses invaded the wood.  Another battle had begun.  In fear Baidyanith ran, the pain of the arrow subsided momentarily as she pushed blindly into the shadow.

She awoke with a start.  Arms encircled her and the embers of a fire lost blared soft into the night.  Slowly she moved her head back.  Open eyed and solemn laid the Elf man that kept her.  His blond hair covered over wound and about her chest.  His embrace was fit but kind as both rest vertically on side.

She laid her hand about his own moving it ever so softly as not to wake him   Inch by inch she wriggled from his grasp, all the while holding her breath.

Legolas smiled lightly.  Long since had he been awake and her actions were amusing.

"Would you leave me without saying good bye?"  He whispered into her ear, blinking rest from his eyes.

Baidyanith jerked from him and turned. 

"What is your name Master Elf?"

He sat a bit, leaning back on his elbow.

"I am Legolas, Son of Thanduill, and Prince of Mirkwood."  He bowed his head politely. 

"But it seems that I am not the only Elf in the wood."

"Legolas…"  She flustered trying to straighten herself. "I fear that I know not what you mean.  I am no Elf and nor do I sense another..."  She whispered looking him over.  At long last the man sought was in sight and speaking so delicately.

"You are mistaken... fair one." He sat up further, his eyes filled with sorrow.  "Your wings.. Once you came upon our fire, a Mordorien arrow was revealed.  No longer are you Fae- as your birth right proclaims but Elf, same as I."

Her eyes revealed the confusion she with held, she began to tear as her hand searched her back to find blood stained emptiness.

"It cannot be.. How was this trickery done?"  She sighed as she looked to her companion for an answer unbeknownst to her.

Caution filled he slid her hand into his own.  His eyes gazing upon beautiful, innocent features that appeared as if just setting eyes on the cruelty of the world. 

"When you were took victim, the arrow contained a poison which took effect as it entered your breast. It began to kill your heritage, stealing you from the grace of Fae and descending you to an Elf."  The words pained him as they rippled over his tongue.  They were sour, undeserving, and unforgiving to the maiden abroad.

Too in depth to speak Baidyanith once more laid her head against his chest, wincing in brief from the wounded pain.  Barely awake she found comfort there once, mayhaps it would assist her once more.  The nightmare had become reality.  She was a fae no more.  


	3. An explaination always helps

Legolas quaked as she bent against him. Never before did he feel a woman fall upon him. He lifted his hand and placed it over the back of her shorted hair. Anger welled within him, this act, he was sure came about during the battle to which she was felled, for unnatural was it for a female regardless of race to not have lengthy hair in this Kingdom or any other. But never would he inquire. He cradled her ever so closely, such tone was called forth on this hour of sorrow.  
  
"Being Elf kind will not be so different." Cooed Legolas as he lowered his head to hers.  
  
"For that you will see all in time due."  
  
"Mayhaps I do not wish to wait for time to mame such feelings-Legolas, Elven Prince." Her voice shivered and spurt with haste.  
  
"Mayhaps my heart yearns to be my Father's daughter once more."  
  
Legolas remained silent as she sobbed into his bound tunic. Was being of his kind so horrible that tears should be spilled over the wood? Her threaded words stung him ever so. His heart did pine for her loss, but his self pride with held him from pining all to near.  
  
"Fair one-Nall u, for one so dear should never have to suffer so. As long as aloud I shall linger in these whereabouts. On my honor I will tend to what may to dry such tears of anguish. All in hope of brining a vibrant touch to such stained flesh once more." He lifted his hand beneath her chin as to make her greet his luzal eyes.  
  
"You shall always be your Father's daughter, no matter your appearance."  
----  
  
"What do you believe he is doing to the lass?" Cried Gimli eyeing the two between the legs of the Earth bound King.  
  
"Assisting, friend Gimli," said Aragorn grinning, hand grasping the hilt of his sword mindlessly.  
  
"Assisting! It seems as if he wishes to court her rather than help her!" Scoffed the Dwarf moving about Aragorn.  
  
"Never once did Legolas assist us in such a manner."  
  
Aragorn laughed deeply glancing down onto his companion. "And to that I thank the stars, and as should you."  
  
To rest they went. Dreams came swiftly after countless hours of words. Legolas, Elvish woman in hand, rested his head. For one he had only known for such a short night, he felt as if he had known her for all his lifetimes. Not one subject left untouched, not one hope left unlit. As the way it should be. He dreamt on. Images of peace filtered through, thoughts of love ignited. Out of hardship came so much glee, although brief it was well accepted. 


	4. A Love lost?

Morning light lit the noir sky, depleting the stars and consuming the night. Legolas smiled warmly half waked as the sun kissed the Earth about him. His eyes blinked to remove the drowsiness that lingered. It was then that truth was revealed. Alone he slept this morning. A cloak lay where a maid once had. Empty.  
  
"Baidyanith?" Cried Legolas upright. His head jerked to and From in hopes of catching her abroad.  
  
"She has departed, friend Legolas. Her wound removed she went into the night." Aragorn spoke as he moved about a tree. His eyes befallen upon the Elven Prince.  
  
"Departed? She has gone without word..." Legolas cut off, his heart torn in agony. Dream must still keep him, for no Maid would leave so quickly without a warnings word.  
  
"No, not without word. To this tree lay a scroll that Gimli and I have accrossed. Her states her plea to you.. Vowing more than ever head by mine hunters ears."  
  
Slowly stood the Elf. His knees weak, heart heavy. TO her he expressed it all, and to her he trusted thoroughly. Now she was ever far and he leagues behind. Without stepping forth, the words were clear. His Elven eyes moved about, attached to the willow read:  
  
My Dearest Prince,  
To you I owe this life and the next. To you I owe it all. After the words spoken this night I fear I no longer deny myself of this newfound being, but enjoy it all the while. If being Elf kind is to be as you are then I would take an arrow upon my breast as surely as the moon rises each night. As long as I pondered this movement.. as hard as it was to leave.. I know that there is no other choice. Into battle you must flee, and into battle you must go with a clear head about your shoulders. I shall not linger beside you for I know that you would guard me all too well. A mission was rumored- a fellowship broken but still whole in friendship. To that you are to serve. But my heart shall always serve you, in many a praise.. in many dreams.. all my life I will remember the night spent. I will see you on the lines of Rohan, in hopes of participating to the good of Middle Earth. Look for me there.  
  
Always,  
Baidyanith, Daughter of Amrial  
  
His eyes stung with that of unshed tears, she was alone amongst the shadow driven plains. He for the only time in all his years, felt helpless and small. He glanced down at his chest. Had the arrow been replaced within his own breast? Was it a broken heart that plagued him?  
  
"'Tis' true that those of my kind feel so deeply, too deeply in ways. But a heartbroken fool am I to deliver myself so completely to one not yet known for a full day's night." He growled at himself and lifted to pick up his items. She was shattered and torn, and he tended to her. No, he walked broken hearted and alone in thought, and where was she to mend the wounds inflicted?  
  
Silent he stalked to his friends near. Silently the nodded. Legolas vowed to keep her always once he found her. Now a new mission was added to that which now stood. A love waited beyond the gates of Rohan, and to there his watchful eyes would seek another that would never again leave him in the dark and the loveliness of early morning. He wanted her all too much. 


End file.
